


And I took you by the hand (And we stood tall)

by Onecrazyfangirl



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, Missing Scene, also you can read this as whatever you want but i wrote it as qpr so, canon atypical talks about feelings, ep 91 spoilers, mentions of the canontypical death you know the one, travis gets the hug i desperatly want to give him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28795416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onecrazyfangirl/pseuds/Onecrazyfangirl
Summary: The night after Margaret leaves Travis and Gable finally talk. And cuddle.
Relationships: Gable & Travis Matagot, Margaret/Travis Matagot
Comments: 8
Kudos: 11





	And I took you by the hand (And we stood tall)

**Author's Note:**

> gee nico another episode 92 fic? yes. I want Travis to talk about his feelings very desperatly so im maniftesting this. 
> 
> title from After The Storm by mumford and sons, which when applied to Travis makes me bawl.
> 
> very many thanks to Rowan for editing this fic <333 ily.

Gable isn’t exactly sure what they expect to find when they go look for Travis, ostensibly to go over the plans for the Bandit Queen’s arrival. Really, it’s more of a lousy excuse to drink together, and they certainly aren’t expecting Travis ro be staring wistfully out the window and crying quietly.

“Travis?” they say tentatively.

He turns to look at them, catches their gaze for an instant and immediately away again. He doesn’t snap at them to leave, though, and Gable knows that’s about as much of an invitation to stay as you’re likely to get from Travis. 

They carefully take a few steps forward, setting down the bottle of wine they’d brought on the floor. He doesn’t say anything, and still doesn’t look them in the eye, but he gets walks into their arms anyway.

Gable is a little surprised. Such displays of intimacy are uncommon between them unless they were either drunk or annoying each other, and this isn’t either of those. He doesn’t break down sobbing into their chest, but he holds on tight and breathes out slowly, grounding himself. Gable only stiffens for a second before instinct kicks in and they wrap their arms around him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” they say after holding him for a while.

He groans. “If I have to,” he says.

Gable almost goes to tell him he doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to, but he looks at them with an edge of pleading in his eyes, and they let go. 

They sit on opposite sides of the hammock, Travis still looking away from them. Searching for words. “I just don’t know how to start,” he admits.

Gable silently offers him the bottle. He looks at it for too long and shakes his head. Gable is taken aback, and they know it’s visible on their face by the way Travis manages to muster a smirk.

“I can talk without being drunk,Gable,” he says. “What do you take me for.” 

Gable feels a momentary swell of pride, followed by some annoyance that at some point, Travis had gotten better at this than they are. 

Instead then, Gable offers their hand, and he holds it. He still doesn’t look at them, but that’s alright.

“I don’t think I ever told you I was married,” he starts. 

_ “What?” _ Gable says. It stings that they’ve been together for so long and Travis never once trusted them with this. But then Gable sees him flinch at their tone, and pull away a little. 

They realise slowly that this is him trusting them now. 

They catch his hand. “Sorry,” they say sheepishly. “Just a shock.” 

He shrugs, but keeps holding their hand. “If it’s any consolation I didn’t know you that long. It was-,” he stops to calculate for a moment. “It must be over one hundred and seventy years ago by now. That she passed, I mean.”

Silence falls between them as Gable gapes at him. Not only was Travis married, Travis is a widower. 

And it’s not just that. He didn’t tell them, and Gable knows that means he didn’t tell anyone. He’s been alone with his pain for well over a century now. 

“Oh, Travis,” they say, and they can't help pulling him back into their embrace. His back to their chest, so he can be held without looking at them. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” 

“She drowned,” he says, his voice hollow, “We were running. We had to cross a river and then the Mariner-” He chokes on the last bit of the sentence and Gable holds him tighter, rocking them a little.

“I wasn’t strong enough,” he says, “We were supposed to die together, but then…” 

He trails off and Gable makes a small noise of pain. Helplessly, they kiss the top of his head, and murmur some nonsense comfort. They have no clue what to say, how to fix this. 

They think of the fight with The Mariner and the water flooding Nordia. They think of every time he got jumpy around bridges. They close their eyes, squeezing him a little, and wonder why things aren’t ever allowed to be simple.

“There’s, uh. More,” he says. There always is. “Do you remember Margaret?”

“Travis, she only left a few hours ago. I am not that stupid.” 

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well. My wife’s name was Margaret.”

Gable looks puzzled. “You’re upset because there’s a woman with your wife's name… who left?”

He closes his eyes and buries his face in their shoulder and mumbles something they can’t make out.

“What?” Gable asks.

“I think she was her.”

“Margaret the black lily that gave you back your arm, that conducted a seance with us, who just left was… your dead wife?”

Travis can’t help but laugh a little. “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous.”

Gable laughs a bit in disbelief too. “How does that even work?” they ask, slightly hysterically.

“I don’t know!” he says, matching their hysterical tone, then adds in a softer voice, “I’m sure of it, though.”

“Well, shit,” they say, and then they can’t help adding, “I can’t believe I kissed your wife.”

That's apparently what it takes to make Travis to burst out laughing, which eventually dissolves into vague, hiccupped sobbing.

Gable looks at him with concern, but he waves them off. “I think everything is sort of, catching up with me at once,” he says wiping his tears. 

“Oh wow, did the great Travis Matagot repress his feelings for too long,” they say, deadpan, “What a surprise.”

He swats at them lightly. “Oh, you’re one to talk.”

Gable is very aware of that. They know that the pair of them are just a couple of messes cobbled together, when you get down to it.

“Does Margaret know?” Gable asks eventually.

He shrugs. “Probably?”

Gable stands up suddenly. “Do you want to go look for her?”

He considers it for a while. “She made a promise,” he says, “Before she left, that if I looked for her I would find her.”

“So?”

He sighs. “We have a job to do, don’t we?”

Gable badly wants to tell him that it doesn’t matter, but they know they can’t. They have Jonnit and a whole crew relying on them. And upsetting the Bandit Queen hardly seems a smart move.

“Yes,” they say solemnly “We do.”

He nods, resignedly. “I guess I’ll have to trust in it then.”

“Trust…?” 

“Trust in the promise. That she’s out there, that I’ll find her when I can. That I haven’t lost her again.”

They smile sadly. They’ve got this far, at least. “You should try to sleep now,” they suggest. “You look tired.” 

He shrugs, but then gives in and nods. He gives them a slightly convincing smile.

Right before they’re about to walk out, they hear a soft voice.

“Gable?”

They turn around and look at him, and he’s looking back at them. They hold the fragile gaze between them.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Do you want me to stay?” they ask knowingly.

“Yes.”

Gable smiles, small and sweet. “Any time.”


End file.
